


Something Just Like This

by 0_jtboi_SR2



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Awkward Romance, Cora Ain't Straight Y'all, Cora Is a Huge Dork, F/F, Friendship/Love, Just a lil' smut, Light Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:28:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24168115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0_jtboi_SR2/pseuds/0_jtboi_SR2
Summary: Cora discovers that nothing about Andromeda was what she expected, including the new Pathfinder.
Relationships: Cora Harper & Female Ryder | Sara, Cora Harper/Female Ryder | Sara
Comments: 31
Kudos: 130





	1. Chapter 1

“I didn’t want this.”

Cora glanced up from where she was crouched next to her footlocker. Ryder was standing in the doorway to the biolab, looking unnervingly calm for someone who, earlier that day, had just been clinically dead for twenty-two seconds. And was now the Pathfinder. Cora looked back down and continued rummaging through the locker. 

  
“That makes two of us,” she said, hastily grabbing a water bottle and a datapad before slamming the locker shut. She stood and gave it a kick for good measure, a quick burst of blue energy enveloping her boot. 

Ryder was unmoved. “You’re pissed.” 

“No shit.” Cora leaned against the biolab’s workstation and crossed her arms. “I trained for years to be your father’s second, then he gives it to you? An untrained Pathfinder and all this mess to fix? What the hell was he thinking? She asked the last question more to herself than anything. Despite her anger, she knew Ryder didn’t have the answers anymore than she did. 

Ryder shifted her weight, looking uncomfortable for the briefest of moments. Then her face hardened, blue eyes turning to ice. They weren’t Alec’s eyes, Cora realized. Ryder must have taken after her mother. 

“Is this going to be a problem?” Ryder asked. 

“No.” 

“Good.” Ryder nodded, then turned to leave. 

Cora sighed. This wasn’t the start she had hoped for. She was still the second and the team needed her. Ryder needed her, too, even if the Pathfinder didn’t acknowledge it yet. It was on her now. 

“Ryder,” Cora called out. “I’m sorry about Alec.” 

Ryder stopped, looking at her with those cold eyes, then continued walking away. She didn’t say anything. 

***

Cora didn’t meet Ember Ryder until just before they were set to depart for Andromeda. 

At first, she thought it odd that most of the preparations were falling on Alec and Ezekiel, but after talking with the younger Ryder sibling she learned that Ember might not be accompanying them at all. The family had all drifted apart after Ellen died, Zeke had explained, and Ember’s grief had especially overwhelmed her. She was never close with her father, either, and losing Ellen had just exacerbated the strain. Zeke told Cora that his sister had long blamed Alec for the way her career in the Alliance had ground to a halt, which wasn’t entirely fair, but wasn’t entirely  _ wrong _ , either. After speaking with him only a handful of times, it was obvious Zeke was the glue holding the Ryders together. 

Ember arrived for dinner unexpectedly one evening, rendezvousing with the frigate they had been working out of as the Hyperion was prepping for its journey, piloting the shuttle herself. Zeke was practically giddy at his sister’s appearance, pulling her into a large hug and slapping her back loudly, his smile broad. (This was apparently a point of pride for the Ryders, as the first thing Cora had ever learned about Ember was that she was an excellent pilot. The vehicles didn’t matter, either. Troop transports, shuttles, even frigates--according to them, as long as it got off the ground, Ember could handle it. Actually, it was the most Alec ever had to say about his daughter. Cora remembered being unable to decide who she felt sadder for.) 

Cora had immediately excused herself, not wanting to intrude on the impromptu reunion, but both Alec and Zeke insisted she stay, resulting in perhaps the most awkward evening of her life. Dinner consisted mostly of Zeke talking almost nonstop to combat the icy silence that threatened to consume the table. Ember was quiet and withdrawn, communicating mostly in short, clipped sentences or low grunts, whenever she wasn’t obviously ignoring Alec. Honestly, if it wasn’t for the physical resemblance, Cora would not have believed the younger Ryders were even related. They were both tall, standing well over a meter and a half, with broad shoulders, thick black hair, and sharply angled features. The only time Ember had smiled was when Zeke made a joke about their matching haircuts. 

Later, when the plates were cleared away, Ember had spoken privately with Alec, and while the tension didn’t disappear, whatever was said had dissipated some of it. Zeke relaxed visibly, then produced a bottle of scotch, and the four of them had toasted to Andromeda. Ember had knocked hers back in one go, despite Zeke admonishing her that it was a  _ sipping whiskey _ and how she  _ needed to savor it, dammit _ . A second shot was poured and demolished in similar fashion, causing Zeke to go nearly apoplectic. Ember had just chuckled. 

It was after that second drink that Ember had finally turned to Cora. She had looked the biotic up and down in cool appraisal, then asked bluntly if Cora could really tear an APC in half. When Cora had asked if she wanted a demonstration, both Alec and Zeke had roared in appreciative laughter. Ember said nothing, merely tipping her glass in Cora’s direction.

Two days after that dinner, Cora received a notification that a  _ Ryder, Ember S  _ had been added to Ark Hyperion’s crew manifest. 

***

Cora knew something was wrong the second day they were on Eos.

Ryder wasn’t a natural soldier by any means, and her lack of Pathfinder training had her further behind than what Cora would have preferred, but she was a quick study and a crack shot. She had taken to Cora’s instruction without complaint and had improved markedly, however on this particular day she was sloppy and undisciplined. Cora found herself in Ryder’s line of fire several times, as Ryder struggled to maintain her correct spacing. Her assault rifle sprayed all over the place. Ricochets bounced off Cora’s barriers harmlessly, but each occurrence irritated her to no end. 

She confronted Ryder as soon as the Kett had been cleared, and was about to launch into the lecture she had been preparing all morning, when she noticed Ryder clutching the side of her helmet and swaying on her feet. Cora caught the Pathfinder as she staggered forward, grunting under the unexpected weight. Ryder muttered under her breath, and it sounded like she was addressing SAM, but Cora wasn’t sure. 

“Ryder?” she asked 

“Just get me to the ship,” Ryder replied hoarsely, wrapping an arm around Cora’s shoulder and holding tightly. 

Cora led Ryder to the Nomad and they silently climbed into the back together, Cora keeping a bracing hand on Ryder’s shoulder as Liam got into the driver’s seat. He shot a questioning look back at her, and Cora just shrugged. Ryder took off her helmet and closed her eyes, hissing with every jolt and lurch of the vehicle. Cora frowned and leaned closer to Ryder. The thick artery in the Pathfinder’s neck was pulsating rapidly, and the skin around the SAM implant that sat behind her ear was an angry red. 

“It’s okay, Ryder,” was all she could think of to say. 

***

“Migraines?”

Cora spoke softly, standing in the corner next to an unused biobed. The medbay’s overhead lights had been dimmed, and one section had been turned off completely. The only illumination came from the wall console displays. Ryder was stretched out on the bed in the darkest corner, arm thrown over her face, the crook of her elbow covering her eyes. 

Lexi kept her voice low as well. “It’s the implant. The trauma of transferring SAM combined with the overload damaged some of the interface circuitry. I am working with SAM to repair what I can, but considering how intricate this all is…”

“It could be a permanent condition.” Cora finished for her. 

“Unfortunately, yes.” 

“So what can we do?”

Lexi sighed. “Certainly, I can treat the migraines when they occur, but the severity and timing of these attacks could be difficult to predict. It’s also possible that when they occur, she could be incapacitated for hours at a time.”

Cora looked over at Ryder, feeling an unmistakable stab of sympathy. “You’ll keep me informed? I should be aware of any issues that could affect her ability to command the Tempest.” 

Lexi nodded. “Of course.”

From across the room, Cora heard a low moan. 

“I  _ told  _ him I should have flown the damn shuttle,” Ryder muttered. “Thanks a lot, Alec.” 

***

After only a few weeks in, Cora was pleasantly surprised at how well the Tempest’s crew was coming together. Despite the obvious differences, each individual’s skills seemed to complement the group as a whole, and so far, the positives outweighed the negatives. PeeBee, for all her manic energy, was an engineering marvel and her work with Remnant tech was continually impressive. Jaal’s advice was already proving invaluable. Suvi and Kallo were damn near inseparable and ran the bridge as if they shared a brain, and if Gil would just stop bickering with the salarian everything would be perfect. Drack was as lethal as he was hilarious. Liam was a rock. And Vetra, of course, was a genius. 

Now, if Cora could just get the Pathfinder to come around. 

Ryder was aloof, distant, brooding--all perfectly fine attributes for a pilot, but less so when she was expected to lead a ship and a crew. Cora’s earlier frustrations were eventually forgotten when she realized how involved she truly needed to be. With Ryder and her crew being the only operational Pathfinder team, Ryder was under a staggering amount of pressure. And it was her job to keep the Pathfinder up to task. So she poked and prodded Ryder out of her moods, helped with correspondence, assisted with mission planning, duty shifts--pretty much anything she could get her hands on. She was pretty certain it was what Alec would have wanted--although considering some of the decisions he had made, Cora found herself wondering if she really knew her mentor at all. 

She wished, though, that she didn’t have to school Ryder on the more basic things, like how it was generally inadvisable to respond to tasks requests with a  _ fuck no  _ or  _ fuck off _ , and that Ryder really shouldn’t threaten to blow Gil and Kallo out of the airlock if they didn’t shut up. Although, Cora did admit it was pretty amusing when Ryder promised that if she saw Liam shirtless one more time, she would staple his uniform to his chest.

Even though things were generally running well on board, Ryder still treated the crew with suspicion, giving them a wary eye whenever approached and referring to almost everyone by their last name. Even Ryder’s fighting style was cold and distant, the Pathfinder preferring to hang back and pick off targets while the rest of the team engaged up front. A part of Cora understood the general reluctance to get close to anyone, but generally speaking it was a tiresome attitude. However, in Cora’s more frustrated moments, when she wished Ryder would take more of a lead, she reminded herself that the Pathfinder was doing the best she could in a position she had never expected to be in. And never wanted to begin with. 

The crew, though, seemed to find Ryder’s disposition a source of entertainment, and were constantly teasing their Big, Brooding Pathfinder. Ryder, surprisingly enough, accepted the ribbing with minimal complaint, usually responding with multiple versions of the phrase  _ go the fuck away _ , which only seemed to result in roaring laughter from Drack or Vetra and an affectionate clap on the shoulder. Liam especially seemed determined to bring Ryder out of her shell, insisting that she help move his couch (which Cora still had no idea how he got past quarantine procedures) and offering her a beer at every opportunity. Gil began harassing her about joining the regular poker game. Jaal, with his insatiable curiosity, cornered Ryder whenever he could and peppered her with questions until she could find an excuse to get away. 

It wasn’t the most professional crew she had ever served with, but since the Initiative wasn’t technically a military operation, there wasn’t much Cora could do about it. So instead she just went along with it as best she could, rolling her eyes at the terrible jokes, playing cards, and laughing gently whenever someone razzed the Pathfinder. Slowly, gradually, she began to feel at home. 

She hoped Ryder felt the same. 

***

True to Lexi’s diagnosis, the headaches came at random and with a staggering force. Ryder was incredibly private about her condition--whether it was due to pride or shame, Cora didn’t know--and, as such, Lexi and Cora were the only ones who knew when Ryder was having another attack. The three of them had worked out something of an arrangement. Whenever Ryder felt a headache coming on, she would simply ping Cora, who would meet her wherever she was and quickly escort her to the medbay. There, Lexi would poke and prod, administer an analgesic, and then send Ryder on her way. Cora would lead Ryder down the hallway to her cabin, ensuring that SAM had dimmed the lights before entering, then set the Pathfinder on her bed and leave as quietly as possible. 

Cora noticed that Ryder’s headaches seemed to happen more often than not when they were on the Nexus. She wondered if it was the lighting, or the stale air emanating from damaged recyclers, or the particular way Director Tann’s voice droned on and on when he was finally getting around to making a point. Any one of those would be enough to give Cora a migraine of her own. She supposed she should be grateful, though, that the worst of it typically occurred when they were safe. Ryder had a few attacks when they were in the middle of fighting the Kett, and while she mostly pushed through, a handful of times they had resulted in her retching on the floor of the Nomad. PeeBee was especially annoyed at that, mostly because Ryder had come within centimeters of unloading into her lap twice. 

Cora was working in the meeting room, working on a first draft of an after action report about another Kett skirmish on Eos. Her omnitool flashed to life. The ping came from the docking bay, just outside the Tempest’s airlock. She jumped to her feet and quickly crossed the length of the ship. They had docked at the Nexus so Ryder could have yet another check in with Addison, and endure yet another soliloquy from Tann. Both must have been excruciating.

Ryder was crumpled against the docking bay wall, nearly folded in half, pressing her forehead against the metal surface and taking deep, gulping breaths. Cora crouched next to Ryder, keeping her back to the entrance way, shielding Ryder from view as best she could. A few curious passers-by peered down into the bay. Cora ignored them, feeling an uncharacteristic annoyance towards Nexus’s civilians. She should have insisted on coming along with Ryder. 

She reached out and gently placed a hand on the back of Ryder’s neck. The skin was hot beneath her palm. “Relax,” she said quietly. “It’s okay.” 

Ryder nodded, swallowing hard. After a moment her breathing slowed. She grabbed Cora’s shoulder and pulled herself up. Cora wrapped an arm around Ryder and braced herself. 

It was easy to forget how large the other woman was. Not only was Ryder tall, she was a thick, solid wall of muscle, much like her father and brother. Cora barely came up to Ryder’s mouth when they were standing near each other, which was even more pronounced when the Pathfinder was wearing her armor. Most of the time there was a fair amount of distance between them, which skewed her perspective, whether it was on the battlefield or sitting across a table while they reviewed paperwork. If she was being honest, that was when she enjoyed being around Ryder the most--when it was just the two of them, working together in comfortable silence, passing a pot of coffee back and forth.

With the help of her biotics, Cora was able to maneuver Ryder back into the Tempest. She held Ryder upright during the decontamination process, then gently turned her toward medbay as soon as the doors opened. 

Ryder tensed, resisting Cora’s direction. “No. Cabin.” 

“But Lexi--” 

“Cabin,” Ryder said again. “Please.” 

The room was dark when they entered, but the soft glow of her biotics cast enough light to guide Ryder to her bed. Ryder instantly rolled onto her side with a moan, curling up on top of the covers in her full uniform. Briefly, Cora wondered if she should at least take Ryder’s boots off, but something about that seemed a step too far. She made a note of the time, softly asked SAM to go into privacy mode, then turned to leave. 

“Stay.”

The request was muttered so quietly that for an instant Cora thought she had imagined it. 

“What?”

“Just...talk to me.” The dark outline of Ryder’s head rose up from the pillow, then flopped back down again. “Your voice helps. I don’t know why.” 

Cora sat back down on the bed, tucking one leg underneath her and letting the other dangle. The toes of her boot grazed the deck as she swung her leg back and forth. “What should I talk about?” Cora asked. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, deciding to keep them tightly folded in her lap. 

“Doesn’t matter.” Ryder paused. “Tell me about being a huntress.” 

At first Cora thought Ryder was teasing her. Yes, admittedly, she did talk a fair amount about her training, but it was only when it was applicable to the situation, and it wasn’t  _ her  _ fault that Sarissa’s manuals were applicable to a lot of situations. But then she remembered that Ryder had never commented on her background, or her abilities, or acted like she was some kind of freak. The request was genuine, and despite her moods, Ryder was nothing if not genuine. So Cora began to speak. 

It was strange, really, talking so freely about Talien’s Daughters. Most people didn’t seem inclined to have much of a conversation about it with her, whether out of confusion or intimidation. Certainly, Nisira didn’t feel like much of a conversation was warranted when she told Cora that her time with the Daughters was finished. In the years after, she had gained enough perspective to understand what had happened. She just wasn’t wanted. It was a feeling she had become accustomed to. 

She had been lost for a little while after that. Until the Initiative. 

Cora didn’t tell Ryder any of that, though. Instead, she told war stories as they came to her, like the one about Matriarch Kemeta murdering a krogan with a deck of playing cards, or how Useta, their demolition specialist, had taken out a dozen vorcha sentinels armed with only her biotics and a fork. She was in the middle of describing the proper technique for a biotic charge when she realized Ryder had fallen asleep. 

She trailed off from the point she had been making and just sat in silence in the darkened room. The only sound was Ryder’s gentle, steady breathing. She reached out and gave Ryder’s shoulder a light squeeze. Ryder didn’t stir. Cora’s mouth turned up into a small smile and she stood to leave. 

***

Voeld was a damn masterpiece. 

Despite the extreme cold, the crew was the sharpest Cora had ever seen them. Drack was a battering ram, but kept it under control, and PeeBee had finally learned to communicate and respond to positioning commands. Vetra stopped going rogue. Liam stopped trying to be the hero. And Ryder had been at her best, each movement crisp and precise as she directed traffic and complemented her squadmates with supporting rifle fire.

After two full days of operations, they had activated the vault and made contact with the angaran resistance, but everything had culminated in seizing the Kett command tower. Cora had put the final exclamation point on the mission when she tore a troop transport out of the sky and dropped it on the remaining Kett soldiers. An explosion of cheers and whoops came over the comm, led by Ryder, and Cora had allowed herself a broad smile at the recognition. It had been far too long since she’d been allowed free reign to use her abilities like that--a majority of her training had been on focused, controlled strikes--and it felt good to push herself again. Cora had Ryder to thank for that; by putting herself in a support role, the Pathfinder allowed Cora to work as a true vanguard, leading the charge into battle and putting herself in positions to cause the most damage. Which, quite frankly, was what she had been born to do. 

Afterwards, Cora found Ryder on the highest point of the tower, sitting on a gangplank dozens of meters up in the air. Her legs were dangling off the platform, arms folded across the new, all-black helmet sitting on her lap. She seemed unbothered by the cold as she gazed out over the frozen landscape, eyes hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses. 

The helmet had been Lexi’s idea; after diligently monitoring the Pathfinder' health, she was able to discern that bright light was a major factor in triggering Ryder’s migraines. The customization had cut down on the frequency of the attacks. Sunglasses helped, too, even though Ryder was predisposed towards the more stylish pairs that Vetra procured. Privately, Cora thought they made her look like she was trying too hard. 

“Some officers from the Resistance are here. They’re waiting to speak with you.” Cora said. 

Ryder didn’t look at her. “I know. Just give me a minute.” 

Cora hovered for a moment, unsure of what to do, but then decided to sit down next to Ryder. She took off her own helmet, bracing for the cold, although it wasn’t as freezing as she expected. After the heat of the battle it actually felt good on her flushed cheeks. It would only be a matter of time before the vault returned the planet to its previous state before the ice age.

“I can’t wait to take Zeke here,” Ryder said suddenly. 

“Here?” Cora’s brow furrowed. Conditions would improve, certainly, but Voeld was hardly a vacation destination. 

“Oh yeah.” Ryder leaned over so their shoulders were almost touching. She raised a hand and pointed at the nearby mountain range. “See that glacier right there? Perfect snowboarding line. Take a shuttle, drop in at about four, five thousand meters and race straight to the bottom.” Cora watched as Ryder’s finger traced the path down to the mountain’s base. “We went snowboarding all the time when we were growing up.”

Cora chuckled. “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.” 

“We drove Alec nuts,” Ryder continued. “He was actually the overprotective one, if you believe that. Zeke and I were always trying to find the biggest mountain, the biggest wave. Mom thought it was great. She always talked about how much she loved having such fearless kids.” 

Ryder’s face remained impassive, but there was a warmth in her voice that Cora had never heard before. It was also perhaps the most personal revelation Ryder had ever made in her presence. But then Ryder slammed her fist into the grate, shaking the entire platform, and her tone once again became hard. 

“Fuck, I miss that. I miss him. I miss being in control.” Ryder exhaled heavily. “I miss  _ flying.”  _

There was a wistfulness in the way she said that last word that almost belied the harsh tone. Almost. 

Cora waited for several long breaths before she broke the silence. “Ryder, you’re doing an excellent job.” 

Ryder’s head snapped around, as if that had been the absolute last thing she had expected to hear. “What?”

“I mean it,” Cora said, wishing she could find Ryder’s eyes behind the shaded lenses. “I know it’s not what any of us wanted. And I know a lot of this is unfair. But you are doing the absolute best job you can, given the circumstances.” She paused and licked her lips, carefully considering what she was about to say next. “You’re doing just as well, if not better, than Zeke would have. Or your father.” 

Ryder bristled visibly at Alec’s mention and fell silent. Cora wondered if she had said the wrong thing, but somehow she also knew it was what Ryder needed to hear. Plus, it was the truth. Alec had years of command experience and Zeke had a natural flair for diplomacy, but Cora couldn’t imagine either of them would have found more success as Pathfinder. The Scourge, the Kett, the Nexus uprising--everything that could have gone wrong on their journey to Andromeda did, but Cora couldn’t help but think Ryder was exactly who they needed right now. Yes, she was rough around the edges, but she also had an innate ability to put people in the positions where they were most likely to succeed, instead of running roughshod over them to establish authority. And Cora knew that beneath the surly exterior, Ryder was thoughtful and sincere, despite everything they had already endured. 

“You really think so?” Ryder asked softly. 

“Yes,” Cora said, then hesitated. “I’m...glad you’re here, Ryder.” 

Ryder gazed at her for a moment before responding. The warmth in her voice returned. “And I’m glad you’re here, too. I mean, I wouldn’t have gotten this far without you. We make a good team.” 

She said it matter-of-factly, like she was discussing the weather, but something about those words turned the air around them electric. Cora suddenly became very aware of how close she was to Ryder, and she felt a strange spike of nervousness, even though that made no sense whatsoever. She had been in close proximity to the Pathfinder plenty of times, seen her at perhaps her most vulnerable, without reacting in any notable way. This moment should be no different. 

“Yeah, we do,” Cora said, shaking off the odd feeling.

***

“Why are you keeping food in your room?”

Jaal was waiting for Cora when she exited the biolab, looking like he would explode if he didn’t get his question answered. 

Cora blinked. “Food?”

Jaal cocked his head, and Cora wondered for a moment if his translator was malfunctioning. He pointed behind her, to the hydroponic setup in the back of the biolab. “Yes, food. Those blossoms--the purple ones? Those go on salads.”

It was all Ryder’s doing, of course. Yesterday she had shown up outside Cora’s quarters unannounced, slightly out of breath, clutching the pot of purple flowers with both hands. Ryder had a meeting with Evfra on Aya--if by “meeting” one meant “contentious discussion”--and had come across the flowers on her way back to the Tempest, explaining that they had reminded her of roses. Which made her think of Cora. And before Cora could even say thank you, Ryder had spun around and darted off, almost comically fast for a woman of her size. 

“They were a gift. I didn’t know Angarans considered them food,” Cora said. She hoped Ryder hadn’t violated some custom or local practice; the Initiative's relationship with the Angarans was already tenuous enough without the Pathfinder accidentally insulting someone over salad toppings. 

“A gift? As in a romantic gesture?” Jaal’s eyes blinked rapidly as his monocle display flared to life. 

“Wait? What? No, of course not!” A hot blush began working its way up her neck. “I mean, how do you even know about that?”

“I have been studying human mating customs,” he replied, as if it was obvious. “Liam told me the gifting of flowers to another is often the sign of romantic interest. Is that not correct?”

Cora groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. Liam and Jaal had become surprisingly close friends, but she had thought their shared interest revolved more around weapon and armor customizations and less about dating advice. 

(She had actually been in the cargo bay on the day Ryder had interrupted one of those bonding sessions in Liam’s quarters. Cora had heard a yell then a thump, and then Jaal had emerged completely naked, nodding to both her and Vetra as if it was an everyday occurrence. Ryder came barreling out after him, red-faced, sputtering about mandatory uniform requirements and demanding to know where the fucking staple gun was. Vetra had doubled over in laughter. Cora probably would have, too, if she hadn’t been distracted by Ryder’s eyes. It was the first time she had seen Ryder without her dark glasses in weeks.)

“Why is Liam teaching you about romantic customs?” Cora was almost afraid of the answer. There were five humans on board, including herself, and as far as she knew at least two of them were not interested in males. Her own personal preferences tended to vary, and she was unsure about Ryder. She could venture a guess, certainly, but it wasn’t her place. 

“You can learn much about a species by studying their courting rituals, don’t you think? It’s fascinating!” Jaal was practically bouncing up and down as he spoke. “So those were not romantic in nature, then?”

Cora bit her lip. The same odd feeling she had experienced in Voeld was back now. She found herself wondering where Ryder was. “No, not romantic.”

“A gesture of friendship or familial ties, perhaps?” 

“Yes. Friendship.” 

She realized she was disappointed as she said it. 

***

Kadara Port was a shithole. Cora said as much, gripping the railing with both hands and leaning over to look down at the level below. She made a face. 

Ryder stood next to her, also looking down and wearing a matching look of distaste. She had customized the rest of her armor to match her dark helmet, and was now clad in shades of black from head to toe, the only remaining splash of color the Andromeda Initiative crest on her chestplate. Already an intimidating figure in standard Initiative blue and white, Ryder now looked downright dangerous. She fit right in on Kadara. 

Ryder’s scowl deepened. “You should begin your AAR like that. Section One, Overview: Kadara Port Is A Shithole.” 

“Tann would love that,” Cora said. Even though the port was mostly open-air, the smell of oil and rusted machinery was so thick she tasted metal on her tongue. Occasionally, the wind would shift and she’d also catch the dank, thick scent of body odor. It reminded her of the freighter she had grown up on. The recyclers were notoriously finicky and would go out for weeks at a time. Fresh air had been a luxury until she joined the Alliance. 

Ryder checked her omnitool and sighed. “Vidal should be showing up soon.” 

Cora resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the smuggler’s mention, although she was secretly pleased at the irritation lurking in Ryder’s tone. While they had already reached an agreement on the matter, she felt the urge to voice her feelings one last time. “I don’t trust him.” 

“He’s useful. That’s all.” Ryder turned her head, looking at Cora through those dark glasses. “Besides, you think I’d ever trust someone who unironically uses finger guns after introducing himself?”

“Finger guns?”

Ryder nodded solemnly. “Double barrels and everything.”

Cora couldn’t contain her laugh. “You have fun with that. I’m going to go watch the Nomad. Someone’s probably trying to steal it again.”

“Good idea. Hopefully you won’t get hit on this time.” A small, sly grin played at the corner of Ryder’s mouth, the same smile Cora had only caught glimpses of previously. 

Cora smiled back. “A girl can dream.” As she went to leave, she raised both hands and gave Ryder the finger gun gesture with an exaggerated wink. 

Ryder laughed, a surprisingly bright sound that Cora hadn’t quite expected to hear. She tugged her sunglasses down and peered over the dark frames, then flipped Cora off. “You’re a fucking dork, Harper.”

Cora’s smile widened as she walked away. 

*** 

The Mantis was in perfect condition, looking like it hadn’t even been breathed on in 600 years. Cora circled the gunship slowly, the strike of her bootheels the only sound in the deserted hanger. “Vetra, you are a genius.” 

Vetra’s warm laugh filled her comm. “I’ll waive my usual fees.”

“How did you even  _ find _ this?”

“Sloane must have gotten her hands on one when the Exiles left the Nexus. According to the manifest, the station has a complement of six.  _ Had _ , I should say.”

Cora reached up and placed her hand on the nose of the ship. It appeared configured for low-altitude flight, which was perfect for what she had intended. She activated her omnitool and pinged Ryder. “Will it fly?” she asked. 

“Scans look good up here. It’s barely been used. Sloane must be holding on to this for a special occasion.” Vetra paused. “You know I just located it, right? I can’t get you actual flight clearance.”

“Forget the clearance.” 

A sound almost like choking came over the comm. “What?”

“Sometimes rules were meant to be broken,” Cora said, conjuring up her most devilish grin for Vetra’s benefit, as if the turian were standing next to her. 

Vetra groaned. “Oh, for spirit’s sake…” 

The side door slid open. Cora hastily closed the link. Ryder approached slowly, rifle still drawn, and Cora was pleased to see that she was actually using a modicum of caution. She waited silently until Ryder processed what she was seeing. Ryder’s mouth dropped open and pushed her sunglasses up onto her head. 

“How the hell..?” Ryder looked over at her, blue eyes wide and bright. 

Cora just shrugged nonchalantly. She wondered if she looked as cool as Vetra when she did it. Probably not. “You said you missed flying, right?”

The corner of Ryder’s mouth twitched and she shot Cora a wary glance, like she didn’t believe what she was seeing or what Cora seemed to be suggesting. Ryder did her own lap around the Mantis, running her hand along the hull reverently. Cora watched the muscles in her neck tighten as she swallowed hard several times. Then their eyes met. The smile that followed was the biggest, most genuine expression Cora had ever seen. 

Ryder didn’t even have to say anything. 

Within seconds they were both scrambling up into the Mantis’s cockpit, Ryder nearly folding herself in half to fit into the pilot’s seat. Ryder’s fingers flew across the controls, utter certainty behind each and every movement, and before Cora had even strapped herself in the engines were roaring to life. The main hangar doors opened, the light from Kadara’s setting sun spilling into the bay. Ryder pulled her sunglasses down and wrapped her hand around the control stick, still wearing a giddy smile. 

“Bravo Three Five! You are not cleared for take-off!” The comm came to life, filling the cockpit with anonymous, sputtering indignation. 

Ryder pulled back on the stick slightly. The Mantis rose off the ground and Cora heard the whine of the landing struts retracting. “This vehicle is being commandeered for official Pathfinder business. We’ll be back in an hour.” 

There was a crack, followed by the sound of a struggle, and then Sloane’s voice came over the comm. “Ryder, you asshole! You can’t steal my ship!”

“I’m not  _ stealing  _ it. I’m borrowing it,” Ryder said patiently. 

“Look here, you little shit--”

Ryder slapped the panel with the palm of her hand, cutting Sloane off mid sentence. She gunned the accelerator and Cora was pressed back into her seat as the Mantis tore out of the bay. 

They soared into the open sky, awash with the brilliant colors of the Kadaran sunset. Varying hues of red, purple, and pink danced across Cora’s vision as the sun reflected off the desert plateaus. Even the pools of acidic water seemed beautiful, deep blues and greens swirling together as steam curled around the surface. 

Ryder eased the Mantis into a lazy loop, bringing them back over Kadara Port. Cora’s eyes flicked over to Ryder’s hand, loosely gripping the control stick, then up to Ryder’s profile. Her smile had faded somewhat, and was now just a look of sheer contentment. Cora was sure this was the happiest Ryder had been since arriving in Andromeda. 

She quickly glanced away, looking down at the outpost below. From this distance, it didn’t seem quite so bad.


	2. Chapter 2

Cora was there when Lexi received the call. 

They were both sitting in the meeting room, enjoying the warm sun beaming in through the upper aft windows. The Tempest had set down on Eos so Ryder could conduct a status check on Prodromos, the Initiative’s newest outpost. 

Her meeting with Mayor Bradley had stretched on for the entire morning, which probably meant Ryder had gotten roped into at least a half dozen other problems on top of the routine update. Cora’s suspicions were confirmed when she received a message about investigating some seismic disturbances, punctuated by a crudely sketched self portrait depicting the Pathfinder dying of boredom. She had laughed in spite of herself, even as she prepared yet another talk on the finer points of professionalism. That had been well over an hour ago. And Ryder still hadn’t returned. 

So in the interim, she and Lexi had spread out in the meeting room. They were both supposed to be working on reports and research, respectively, but they soon got to talking. Cora had always thought highly of the doctor; Lexi was thorough and conscientious, and her attention to Ryder’s condition was exemplary. But in addition to her professional attributes, Lexi also had a delightfully wry sense of humor and an ear for gossip that Cora soon found engrossing. Not in any malicious sense, of course--having a sense of overall crew morale was critical for operational efficiency, in Cora’s opinion. If such an assessment also included a detailed breakdown of how Vetra told Liam, who told Gil, who told Suvi, that PeeBee had swiped some tech for POC but blamed Kallo for it, well then Cora wasn’t going to argue. Ryder wouldn’t have had the patience for it, anyway. 

Lexi had just segued into a different story altogether, talking about a bar fight her best friend had gotten into once (although with the way she spoke about the other asari, Cora wondered if “friend” was the right word) when she was interrupted by her omni tool. Harry Carlyle’s panicked voice came over the comm. He spoke so fast Cora caught only snippets of what he was saying. 

A damaged conduit had overloaded, causing a fire in the cryo bay. Zeke Ryder’s pod wouldn’t open. They didn’t get him out in time. 

Lexi’s hand flew to her mouth, jaw hanging open in shock. She recovered just long enough to make an attempt at consoling Harry, repeating over and over again that it clearly wasn’t his fault. That she knew he had done all he could. Cora listened numbly, Lexi’s words ringing hollow. Eventually, the comm link ended and a long, heavy silence filled the room. Cora hung her head. 

This was supposed to be the Pathfinder’s crowning achievement: the first viable outpost in Heleus. Evidence that it  _ could  _ be done, that the struggle and chaos and fear were all worth it. Deep down, Cora still believed that it was. Ryder was the one who needed convincing. And now any sense of accomplishment was about to be dashed. For a moment, Cora raged against the unfairness of it all. Yes, plenty of people had left behind loved ones, had sacrificed everything for the dream of a new home, and Ryder wasn’t the only one to suffer loss. Yet no one was being asked to do more. 

Cora barreled out of the meeting room without a word, tearing down to the cargo bay where she slapped on her armor and grabbed her M-28 and slammed the button to open the bay doors so hard her biotics flared. She needed to find Ryder. Now. There was no way in hell Ryder would find out over a damn email. She bounded down the ramp and into the bright Eos sun, then stopped short. 

Ryder was walking towards the Tempest; a dark, imposing figure contrasted against the warm light and colors of Prodromos. Cora watched Ryder cock her head, then pick up her pace, almost breaking into a run. Shipping her shotgun, Cora walked out to meet her, thinking ruefully that in her all-black armor, Ryder was already dressed for mourning. 

As usual, Ryder’s eyes remained concealed behind the dark glasses, but Cora still felt her gaze. Ryder’s jaw twitched. Cora stepped forward, placed a hand on Ryder’s shoulder, and as gently as she could, told her that her brother was dead. 

The Pathfinder didn’t say anything. 

***

Condolences trickled in that afternoon. Mostly they were just rote messages, rattled off throughout the course of the day like any other chore. Kandros, Foster, and Kesh had all sent along their individual best wishes; Foster’s surprisingly having come off as the most sincere, probably because Ryder had--in her words--finally “Path _ found” _ something. Tann even sent along a few antiseptic sentences of his own, but of course managed to somehow wedge in a status report request. Such a tragic loss. How devastating. What is the situation with the Exiles on Kadara? 

A few came from strangers who had never even met Ember, or Zeke, or their father. All they knew were the tales of the extraordinary human Pathfinder, who despite her youth and inexperience, was accomplishing things that seemed impossible a year ago. A few more were less kind. The fucking Pathfinder wasn’t the only one who’d lost family, they helpfully reminded. Maybe she should work on getting more people out of cryo?

Cora screened them all. She made sure to delete the crueler ones before Ryder had a chance to read them. 

Ryder had spent the rest of the day holed up her quarters alone. Cora had been surprised at that; she assumed at first Ryder would have wanted to set course for the Hyperion right away but then she realized Ryder probably wasn’t in the biggest hurry to see her brother’s dead body. Especially considering how he had died. Cora cringed just thinking about it. 

The Tempest’s crew were all worried, each their own degree, but they all knew instinctively to give Ryder her space. Except for Jaal. The angaran, as expected, was beside himself at the news, and couldn’t understand why Ryder wanted to be left alone at a time like this. The notion of grieving privately was utterly foreign to him, and Cora didn’t have the time or inclination to explain all of humanity’s idiosyncrasies. Or, rather, Ryder’s idiosyncrasies. At one point, she actually had to restrain him from entering the Pathfinder’s quarters.

Cora would have given Ryder as much time as she wanted, but after only half a day, the condolences turned into requests for status updates and mission debriefs. There were new reports of issues on Havarl. And, of course, they were still fighting the Kett. And the Archon. Nothing stopped. Especially for the Pathfinder. 

As night began to fall, Cora pinged Ryder but did not receive a response, and when she went to check on Ryder, she was surprised to find the Pathfinder’s quarters empty. Ryder had also put SAM into private mode and the AI was not answering her hails. After asking around quietly, Kallo mentioned some strange vibrations coming from the Tempest’s hull, and Suvi softly admitted to seeing Ryder climbing up the port side wing. Immediately, Cora disembarked the ship and looked up. A lone figure sat near the Tempest’s nose, casting a somber outline against the darkening sky. 

Cora summoned her biotics, surrounding herself in a soft blue aura as she floated up to join Ryder. The Pathfinder sat with her ankles crossed, hugging her knees into her chest, mug dangling from her fingertips. She was staring blankly at a spot near her feet. She looked impossibly small. 

“Ryder?” 

Ryder’s head snapped up at the sound of her name. She blinked once, twice, then wiped at her nose and looked away. “I know we have to get going,” she said. 

Cora was about to agree, but suddenly changed her mind. “It can wait,” she said. She took a step closer. Ryder didn’t react. Next to the Pathfinder was a helmet and a bottle of whiskey, and set in front of the helmet was another mug, as if another was expected to join in drink. It was from a standard issue Initiative set, the blue and white stripes still visible in the twilight. Cora had an idea who the helmet had belonged to. 

She eased around the makeshift shrine and sat down next to Ryder. Silently, Ryder poured more whiskey into her mug and handed the bottle over to Cora. She raised the mug overhead, gesturing at Cora to do the same. “To Ezekial,” Ryder said hoarsely. 

Cora raised the bottle. “To Ezekiel.” 

They drank in unison, Cora taking a generous swig and trying hard not to grimace. The whiskey burned more than expected as it went down, although it tasted somewhat familiar. She wondered if it was the same kind Zeke had brought out the night she had dinner with the Ryders. She was suddenly struck by the memory: Zeke’s infectious smile, his good humor. Alec’s bemused grin at his son’s bad jokes. Even Ember, shaking her head, laughing seemingly in spite of herself. A stab of grief hit her in the chest. 

Ryder drained her mug, then held it out towards Cora. Her hand was so large her fingers nearly wrapped all the way around. Cora poured her another shot, then set the bottle down well out of Ryder’s reach. It was already half empty. Ryder knocked back that one, too, without even batting an eye. Then she began to speak. 

“You know, it wasn’t my dad who eventually convinced me to come here. It was Zeke. I didn’t want to leave the Milky Way. I thought this whole thing was ludicrous. But Zeke convinced me. It was his dream as much as my dad’s. He told me out here, I could be anything. Do anything. It would be a fresh start, even if I was the daughter of the Pathfinder. I could be free.” 

Ryder let out a long sigh. She looked down at the mug and ran her thumb over the Initiative logo. Cora swore Ryder would have crushed it in her bare hand if she could. “I was fourth in line. Dad, you, Zeke, then me. Zeke said that’s how Dad wanted it, but that I shouldn’t worry. There was no way I’d end up Pathfinder. Guess he was wrong. So now I’m stuck here, in a galaxy I never wanted to go to, doing a job I never wanted. Alone.” 

The grief in Cora’s chest suddenly became more acute, and for a moment she almost couldn’t breath. She had spent enough time around Ryder to witness the extreme pressure she was under, and that expectations others had of her would be difficult for even Alec to live up to. Hell, Ryder  _ still  _ visibly bristled every time someone called her Pathfinder. But somehow, it was different to hear Ryder say all that out loud in a dull, lifeless voice. 

Cora had her own experience with loss. Shortly after she joined the Alliance, her parent’s freighter, the Akebono Maru, had disappeared somewhere in the Terminus Systems and was never heard from again. She grieved, certainly, but the harsh realities of her childhood colored her reaction to the news. Her parents had treated her more like a crew member than a daughter--even more so when her biotic abilities developed--and she had hated growing up in that barely functional rust bucket. Part of her had not been sad when the Maru itself was lost. But she had always wished for a sibling to pass the time with, to explore and play and make up stories about adventuring across the galaxy. To lose a bond like that was unfathomable to her. 

She wished she knew the right thing to say. Only one thing kept coming to mind, but in her head it just sounded trite. In her heart, though, it was the truth. Cora gently put her hand on the back of Ryder’s neck, just as she had done plenty of times before. Ryder leaned into her touch and turned her head. Their eyes met. 

“You’re not alone,” Cora said. She gently ran her fingers through the thick black hair. “You’re not alone.” 

Ryder began to shake. Her eyes glossed over and tears started rolling down her cheeks. She collapsed against Cora, tucking her face into Cora’s neck as she cried silently. Cora kept her hand on Ryder’s head, stroking her hair as she gazed out over the lights of Prodromos. In the distance, she watched as the dark shape of a storm cloud approached slowly, swallowing the stars one by one. Eventually a single flash of lightning cut across the sky. She felt Ryder jerk away. Cora quickly pulled her hand back. 

“Is it  _ raining _ ?” Ryder asked incredulously, wiping her tears from her face and frowning up at the night sky. 

Cora tucked her knees into her chest, mimicking Ryder’s earlier pose. “More evidence that the vault is working, I suppose.” 

Ryder let out another sigh, this one tinged with disappointment. “We should probably get inside.” 

“No need.” Cora flicked her wrist. Her biotics came to life in an instant, surrounding them both in a warm blue glow. A few thick raindrops splashed harmlessly against the barrier, evaporating away with a soft hiss. 

Ryder looked at her, eyes still brimmed with tears, but wide in appreciation. “I’ve never seen that before.” 

“Any biotic could do this.”

“You’re not just any biotic, Cora.”

Cora started at the compliment, unsure of how to react. She blinked dumbly, several times, before she realized that it wasn’t what Ryder had said, but how she was looking at her. Ryder’s ice blue eyes, usually hidden from her, seemed to glow in the twilight. She was sure it had to be just some odd reflection, or a trick of the flood lights from the settlement, but suddenly Cora felt like she was the only thing that mattered to Ryder in all of Andromeda. Cora turned away. 

“Thanks,” was all she said. 

***

“Here.” 

Cora didn’t look up when something nudged her shoulder. She immediately recognized the sound of Ryder’s voice, of course, but before Ryder even spoke Cora was aware of the quiet, looming presence hovering near her. Cora shifted her weight on the container she was sitting on, but she kept her eyes trained on the ground. Still in her armor, she had sought out the darkest, most secluded corner in the cargo bay as soon as they had returned from the Leusinia, and it had been an effective choice. Everyone had read the signs and left her the hell alone. Except Ryder. The Goddess-damned giant of a Pathfinder always managed to slip away by herself, yet it was too much to ask that Cora be afforded the same luxury. What bullshit. 

Ryder nudged her again. “Take it. You haven’t eaten enough today.”

Cora finally looked up. Ryder was trying to hand her an energy bar. Lemon, Cora’s favorite flavor. Cora sighed and snatched the bar, unwrapping it with trembling fingers. “You notice when I eat now?” 

Ryder just shrugged. 

Shaking her head, Cora shoved half the bar in her mouth, took two bites and swallowed. She felt better almost immediately. Ryder was right; she hadn’t eaten enough, and she hadn’t generated a barrier that large in years. Her fingers stopped shaking and the dull throb that had taken up behind her eyes started to recede. The awful, twisting feeling in her gut remained, though, and was somehow made even worse by Ryder’s attentiveness. She jammed the rest of the energy bar into her mouth, chewing much slower in an attempt to avoid speaking. She didn’t know if she could even talk to Ryder after what happened. But she also couldn’t bring herself to tell Ryder to go.

Ryder didn’t seem interested in making this any easier. She sat down on the deck in front of Cora without a word, crossing her legs and lacing her fingers together in her lap. From her spot on the container, Cora had to angle her gaze downward to look into Ryder’s face. The change in their usual height dynamic, along with the almost demure way Ryder was sitting, made Ryder seem smaller and less imposing. It was a neat trick. Cora wondered if she had done that on purpose. 

“Still upset?” Ryder asked. 

Cora let out a bark of dry laughter. “Your observational skills are unparalleled.” 

Ryder scowled and pushed her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose. “You may not like it, but they still need her. Keeping Sarissa as Pathfinder makes the most sense.” 

“After all she’s  _ done?” _ The sheer, righteous anger she had felt on the Leusinia came roaring back and her biotics almost flared of their own accord, despite her exhaustion. Ryder’s words didn’t register. In her head, all Cora could hear were the last moments of a great matriarch, the fear and hurt in her voice as she begged Sarissa to return to her. To protect her, like she had been sworn to do. 

Sworn, and failed.

“Look, Cora--” 

“She was Ishara’s tiamna!” Cora snapped. Her hands balled into fists. “Do you have any idea what that is supposed to mean? What Sarissa was supposed to stand for?”

Ryder opened her mouth, looking like she was about to respond, but quickly clamped it shut. Cora continued, leaning forward, glaring directly into the dark lenses of Ryder’s glasses. “Tiamna is more than just a bodyguard. It means ‘guardian of temples.’ A champion that stayed faithful even when all was lost. Sarissa left her to die.” 

“And Sarissa will have to live with that,” Ryder said. “She can’t hide the truth of what happened anymore. But I’m not--I’m not going to put another untrained Pathfinder out there. You saw Vederia. She could barely handle herself.” 

Cora was shaking her head before Ryder had finished speaking. “A Pathfinder is supposed to inspire hope. And trust. How is Sarissa going to do that now?”

“And how would Vederia inspire people? She barely knew which end of her rifle to point at the kett. Besides, I…” Ryder paused, running a hand through her thick hair. Several pieces fell onto her forehead. “I can’t judge Sarissa. I wasn’t in her place. She was trying to protect her entire people, not just one person. And I don’t necessarily disagree with that.” 

Cora let out a long sigh. As quickly as her anger had reared its head, it pulled back, leaving nothing but a hollow feeling in her chest. A small, rational piece of Cora understood what Ryder was saying, and maybe after some time, she would eventually come to agree with Sarissa’s actions. For now, though, she was just empty. 

“I spent years studying her, wanting to be like her, reading every single thing she had ever put into writing,” Cora said softly. “And all for nothing. What a waste.”

“Was it, though?” Ryder cocked her head, dislodging another piece of hair. Cora had been meaning to tell her it was getting long. “I’m sorry about what happened, I really am. But does that really take away everything you learned from Sarissa? There still has to be some value in all those manuals you told me to read.” 

The corner of Cora’s mouth twitched. “Yeah. Maybe.” 

Ryder looked down at her hands. “I just think that most people disappoint you at one time or another.” 

They fell silent. Cora knew exactly who she had meant, and felt the truth in those words. Alec had been a true mentor to her, however the more Cora unearthed, the more she realized his motives had been suspect underneath. And perhaps Sarissa had, in her mind, resided on a pedestal far too high. The more you built someone up, the more likely they would let you down. Ryder herself, though, remained an exception. 

“You haven’t,” Cora said softly. 

Ryder jerked noticeably, a reaction Cora had come to realize meant that hadn’t expected a compliment. Ryder glanced away and ran her hand through her hair again. Her cheeks flushed. For a moment, Cora’s anger and hurt was forgotten and she was back on Voeld, sitting next to Ryder after they had captured the Kett command tower, suddenly aware of the tension between them. That same tension was back now, so acute it was almost painful. Ryder let out a small, awkward laugh. Cora wondered if she felt it, too 

“Um, well. Just wait. I’m sure I will at some point.” Ryder still wasn’t looking at her--not that it mattered with those damn sunglasses anyway. She ran a hand through her hair again and cleared her throat, although it came out sounding more like a strangled cough. Her omnitool beeped suddenly and she bolted to her feet with a scowl. 

“Goddammit, I gotta go.” Ryder’s face softened. “Are you going to be okay?”

Cora forced a smile. “Yeah, nothing a hot shower can’t fix.” 

“Here.” Ryder’s fingers flew across her omnitool and Cora’s wrist beeped instantly. 

“What’s this?”

“A code to hack the showers. It overrides the normal hot water ration. Kallo gave it to me when I came aboard.”

Cora’s mouth dropped open. “You mean you’ve had this the  _ entire time?” _

Ryder tugged her sunglasses down, giving Cora a full view of those ice blue eyes, and offered a small grin. “I’ll see you later, Harper.” She turned and walked out of the cargo bay. 

Cora sat a little while longer, then let out a long breath. She stood and headed towards the lift, slowly stripping off her gauntlets as she went. It wasn’t until she caught her reflection in the closing doors she realized that, despite everything, she was smiling. 

***

If the Pathfinder had been a hero before, now she was damn near mythical. Not only had Ryder and her crew located the asari ark, a new outpost had been established on Voeld. The kett, luckily, had been fought back at almost every turn. Hell, even Kadara was starting to look vaguely hospitable.  _ This  _ was what Andromeda was supposed to be: the dream of a new beginning. The nightmare that had met them when they first arrived was finally loosening its grip. Cora almost felt giddy. And their string of successes, along with her improved disposition, made it easier to counter Ryder’s rollercoaster moods. It also was enough to distract her from Ryder’s very real health concerns. 

Cora was enjoying a rare moment of free time on the Hyperion, ambling easily through the new hydroponics bay, when a series of frantic pings sounded from her omnitool. They originated from the corridor leading to the small apartments on the upper level. She frowned. Ryder wasn’t even supposed to be on the ark. Fighting back her disappointment, she left the still, quiet bay and headed up a level. It had almost felt like a real garden. 

The corridor was eerily dark; Cora remembered a report indicating that the power conduits through this section had been severely damaged and remained temperamental, at best. Just before she flared her biotics for additional light, she spied a familiar outline leaning heavily against the wall. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Ryder grimaced as Cora approached. “I know you wanted some time to yourself, but I...” 

“It’s okay, Ryder. Let’s just get you back to the Tempest.” Cora eased Ryder away from the wall and put Ryder’s arm across her shoulders, bracing herself as the taller woman sagged into her gratefully. Cora pulled her close. Heat radiated off Ryder in waves and Cora wondered if she was running a temperature. Her disappointment faded. They needed to find Lexi. 

Suddenly, the overhead lights turned on, blazing and unforgiving. Ryder hissed through tightly clenched teeth. A half formed joke popped into Cora’s head (Something something vampires? And sunlight?) but it vanished when Ryder pressed her forehead against Cora’s temple. A surge of protectiveness overcame her. 

Normally the walk from the apartments down to the docking bay would only take a few minutes, but hauling a staggering Ryder down one full level and through the main terminal, in full view, did not seem like a prudent decision. The lighting down there was also just as unforgiving, and the last thing Ryder needed was to be paraded in front of civilians--or worse, Keri T’Vessa’s camera. Cora looked around the corridor, scanning the numbers on each apartment door. 

As one of the first people woken from cyro, PeeBee had her pick of quarters. Although she had requested to join the Tempest crew full time, she hadn’t quite gotten around to moving off the Hyperion yet. Cora led Ryder to the apartment at the end of the corridor and used her Pathfinder access code to unlock the door.

Even in the dark, Cora could see that the apartment was a mess, but she knew better than to expect anything else. Tools and pieces of machinery were strewn across a small table in the corner. Heaps of clothes and towels and dirty rags covered the couch. The remains of several ration packets littered the floor. She steered Ryder towards the bed, shoving aside a stack of datapads and a ripped jacket, and urged her to lie down. Ryder collapsed into a heap, curling up on her side and tucking her long legs into her chest. Cora flicked on her omnitool, sending a quick message to Lexi, and then sat down on the edge of the bed to wait. 

Lexi arrived soon after, easing through the door with a portable med scanner and a worried frown. She stepped around the various piles of debris and knelt in front of Ryder. Cora hovered nearby, her own look of concern hidden by the shadows of the dark apartment. Ryder barely acknowledged the examination; after an injection and a few quiet murmurs, Lexi stood and gestured for Cora to follow her outside. 

“I administered a dose of zolmitriptan and a slight sedative. She’s resting comfortably. If the pain does not abate in two hours, let me know.” Lexi shook her head ruefully. “Unfortunately, I have not had much success in developing a preventative treatment. At this point, I have to say that Ryder will be living with this as long as she has the SAM implant.” 

Cora just nodded, biting her lip. The same protective urge came over her again, followed by a sudden flash of anger. Surprisingly, it was directed straight at Alec Ryder. His daughter hadn’t asked for any of this. 

“I’ll notify Liam that Ryder is incapacitated at the moment, and to expect you back in several hours,” Lexi continued. She glanced up and frowned. “My, this lighting  _ is  _ brutal, isn’t it?”

“Wait, what?”

“I said the lighting. It’s utterly--”

“No, before that.”

Lexi cocked her head. A slight smile crossed her face, one that Cora would almost describe as  _ knowing _ . “I assume you’ll be staying with the Pathfinder, then? To monitor her condition? I can sit with her, if you’d like.” 

Cora blinked. “No, no. I’ll stay.”

“Very good.” Lexi’s smile grew as she turned to leave. “Please let me know if you require anything further.” 

Cora went back inside the apartment, eyes falling to Ryder’s form, lying on the bed and still curled up into a ball. It was not an unfamiliar sight, yet somehow she looked as vulnerable as Cora had ever seen her. She hesitated. 

The couch certainly wasn’t any option; god only knew what was hiding under the lumps of clothes and rags, or when the last time any of it was cleaned. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to sit on the floor. Cora began picking her way over to the far side of the bed, biting back a curse when her toe collided with a random box of tools. She felt oddly vindicated. 

Cora stretched out on top of the covers next to Ryder, propping herself up against the wall and flipping on her omnitool; at least this would give her the opportunity to get some more work done. She returned to her most recent field report, which could use a little more polish. As she flipped through the draft her eyes kept flicking over to Ryder. The Pathfinder’s back was to her, chest rising and falling gently. Before she knew it, Cora’s hand was on the back of Ryder’s neck, fingers running through short, jet-black hair. She swallowed hard and quickly pulled her hand away. 

***

Cora came awake slowly. The experience was foreign to her; she had spent years training her body to go from sleep to complete alertness in an instant. Here, she lingered on the grey edge of consciousness, taking in her surroundings one piece at a time--the blinking of her omnitool, PeeBee’s disaster of an apartment. A heavy weight sinking the bed next to her. Soft breath on the back of her neck. Ryder’s arm wrapped tightly around her waist. 

For a moment, Cora froze. She had no memory of falling asleep, or of Ryder rolling over and slipping an arm over her. She quickly discovered, however, that she didn’t mind. It was common to share living and sleeping spaces among the asari commandos she had trained with, and it wasn’t the first time she had woken with someone’s appendage thrown across her body. In fact, the apartment was somewhat cool and she appreciated the extra warmth generated by Ryder’s body. 

Her blinking omnitool became more insistent. Without thinking, Cora sighed and flipped it on to check her notifications, only to be blasted by the blinding light of the display. She winced and shut it off. Beside her, Ryder shifted, moaning softly in her sleep. Cora’s mind went blank as Ryder’s arm tightened around her. 

“Oh, shit. Sorry.” Ryder jerked awake and immediately moved away to the other side of the bed.

The loss of Ryder’s touch filled Cora with an ache so sudden she nearly lost her breath. “No worries. You were behaving,” Cora said, keeping her back to Ryder and forcing a lightness into her voice she didn’t quite feel. 

Ryder chuckled in response; a low, husky sound that Cora had never heard her make before. “That’s disappointing.” 

“W-what is?”

Ryder’s voice dipped even lower. “That I would behave when there’s a beautiful woman in bed next to me.” 

A shiver went down Cora’s spine, as if Ryder had crawled over and whispered into her ear. Her hand twisted around the bed covers. “You must be feeling better.”

“I am. Thank you for staying.” Ryder paused. Cora felt the bed shift underneath her, and she couldn’t tell if Ryder had inched closer. “We should probably head back.” 

“Yeah,” Cora said. 

Neither of them moved. 

Cora knew it was a terrible idea. She knew she should just get up and walk out and return to the Tempest. There were dozens of items waiting for them both. Staying would just...lead to other things. Things she shouldn’t be doing with her superior. Things that would distract from their mission. Except all she could think about was how much she wanted Ryder’s hands on her. 

As if reading her mind, Ryder’s fingers brushed over her hip. Cora heard her name whispered in the dark--tentatively, as if asking permission. Cora rolled over. 

The kiss was softer than she expected. Ryder ran her thumb down the line of Cora’s jaw and drew her in so their lips only barely touched. Despite the earlier overture, Ryder still seemed uncertain, and it felt as if she were readying herself for rejection, allowing Cora to easily back away. It had the opposite effect. Cora leaned in and deepened the kiss, parting Ryder’s mouth with her own. She grabbed a handful of Ryder’s shirt and pulled her close, inhaling deeply. Ryder smelled of the standard-issue cleansing supplies, hardly an exotic scent, and yet somehow it was the most enticing thing Cora had experienced since they had arrived in Andromeda. 

The hand that had been on Cora’s hip dipped lower, squeezing her thigh, then slipped under her shirt and pressed into the small of her back. Cora gasped against Ryder’s mouth, surprised both by the strength in Ryder’s hand and her body’s immediate reaction. Warmth blossomed between her legs, so fast she was almost embarrassed. Yet she couldn’t stop. Cora arched into Ryder’s touch, pressing tighter against her, fingers clutching at the collar of Ryder’s shirt. Her need spiked, and before she could catch herself, her biotics flared. 

Ryder jerked away and removed her hand. “Whoa, sorry. Too fast?”

Again, Cora was leveled by the loss of Ryder’s touch, but even more than that, she was utterly mortified. She released Ryder’s shirt and covered her face with her hand. “No, no, I just…” Cora inched away. “Goddess, that hasn’t happened to me in  _ years.” _

“I don’t mind,” Ryder said quickly. She closed the distance between them, wrapping her arm  around Cora’s waist. “It’s, um, tingly.” 

Cora uncovered her face. “Tingly?”

“Yeah, it tickles. Kinda. But not in a bad way,” Ryder said. Even in the dark, Cora was certain she could see a sheepish look cross Ryder’s face. It only made her more endearing.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Cora whispered. 

Their lips met again, this time with more urgency. Cora bit down gently on Ryder’s lower lip and was rewarded with a low growl. In the blink of an eye she was on her back, Ryder’s weight driving her into the bed, Ryder’s thigh pressing exactly where she needed it. Cora clutched the back of Ryder’s head with one hand, fingers tangling in thick dark hair. Her other hand reached under Ryder’s uniform top and she raked her nails down the expanse of Ryder’s back, stopping just above her belt. Ryder pushed herself up with one arm, bowing her entire body to keep as much contact as possible, and reached between her shoulder blades to pull off her shirt, moving so quickly it was like she couldn’t bear to stop kissing Cora for even a second. Ryder’s bra followed soon after. 

Cora was lightheaded, nearly overwhelmed by Ryder’s unashamed desire. Part of her thought she should have expected this; in the time they had known each other, Ryder had been nothing but straightforward with her. And while Ryder had never made an overt pass--until a few moments ago--something unspoken had always existed between them. Deep down, Cora knew it had been there since they arrived in Andromeda, on Voeld, Kadara, the Tempest. Maybe it had even been there as far back as that first dinner before Ryder joined the Hyperion’s crew. Dozens of moments that she had chosen simply to ignore. Because that’s what Cora did. Because the Pathfinder was young and inexperienced and Cora had told herself there was no way Ryder could know what she wanted, and whenever she did figure that out, it certainly wouldn’t be Cora. Because why would it? 

Ryder’s teeth grazed Cora’s neck, then bit lightly at her top of her collarbone. The heat building between them was becoming unbearable. Ryder acted like she knew it. Despite the hunger of their kisses, the way their bodies fit together like it was almost preordained, Ryder pressed into Cora with an unhurried rhythm that was driving her mad. Finally, Cora gripped the back of Ryder’s head and bit down on her lip again, harder this time. Then she flared her biotics. Intentionally.

Ryder grunted in surprise as she landed her back. Cora straddled Ryder’s hips and leaned over her, grinning at the reaction. She had the feeling Ryder was not a woman who was accustomed to being thrown around in bed. Her hands trailed over Ryder’s breasts and down a flat, tight stomach, a sharp thrill running through her as she felt chorded muscle under her fingers. Ryder hissed through clenched teeth. Cora just grinned again, pausing for a moment at Ryder’s waist, before slowly unbuckling her belt. She almost wished the lights were on, allowing a full view of Ryder’s lean torso laid out in front of her. 

“Tickles, huh?” Cora asked as she slid her hand down the front of Ryder’s pants. 

“Play fair, Harper,” Ryder groaned, hips bucking into Cora’s touch. She sat up suddenly and caught Cora’s wrist, pulling her into her lap. In one smooth motion, Cora was topless. Ryder’s arms wrapped tightly around her, skin against skin, so close Cora could feel Ryder’s heartbeat mirror her own. Their lips came together in a slow, deep kiss that threatened to unravel her completely. 

Then Ryder jerked back, hissing again, this time in obvious pain. A second later, SAM’s voice came through Cora’s earpiece. 

_ “Lieutenant Harper, the Pathfinder is experiencing--” _

“Privacy mode, SAM. Both of us. Now,” Cora said tightly. 

_ “But I--” _

“Fucking hell, SAM!” Ryder snapped. 

_ “Oh. Privacy mode initiated.”  _

Cora almost laughed, another dumb joke nearly ready to diffuse the tension (something something getting walked in on like teenagers?) but Ryder’s skin had turned clammy under her hands. Ryder turned her head away and exhaled sharply. 

“Are you okay?” Cora asked. 

Ryder hugged Cora even closer, burying her face into Cora’s neck. “Every time he speaks it’s like a bomb goes off in my head.”

“Does Lexi know it’s that bad?”

“What difference does it make? He’s not going anywhere,” Ryder muttered. “Sorry. That’s a mood killer.”

“Don’t apologize.” Cora’s lips trailed over Ryder’s forehead, to her temple, to the shell of her ear. Her fingers pressed into the base of her skull, slowly massaging the back of Ryder’s neck, near the SAM implant behind her ear. Ryder moaned, her body gradually releasing under Cora’s touch. After a moment, Cora summoned her biotics and funneled a small burst of energy through her hand, just enough to create a low level vibration at the tips of her fingers. Ryder gasped. 

“Better?” Cora asked. 

Ryder nodded in response, and Cora felt a smile against the sensitive skin of her neck, followed by a soft nip. Cora shivered and ran her fingers down Ryder’s spine, drawing the energy through her entire back. Ryder bit her neck harder. “Is there nothing you can’t do?” she said, voice hoarse as she sucked gently at the tender spot. 

Trembling, Cora pulled Ryder’s head away from her neck and whispered against her lips. 

“Try me.” 

***

Cora rolled over, looking up at the ceiling of Ryder’s quarters, heart still pounding. She let out a shaky breath. “I should get going.” 

Ryder was next to her, flopped onto her stomach, hair falling onto her forehead. “Can’t you stay?”

“And have the whole crew see me coming out of the Pathfinder’s quarters in the morning? That will go over well.” Cora said dryly. 

Ryder’s hand trailed over Cora’s stomach, fingertips dipping dangerously low. “Let them see. I don’t care what anyone thinks.”

Cora turned to face Ryder, sliding her leg over the back of Ryder’s thigh. Ryder’s eyes were half-open, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. Cora brushed a lock of hair away from Ryder’s eyes. “We talked about this. It’s not that simple.” 

At least, they had  _ tried _ to talk about it. When they left PeeBee’s apartment, it had been with the understanding that, while it had been damn good, continuing to sleep together was a bad idea. The Initiative took priority. For better or worse, the entire venture’s success sat upon the shoulders of Ryder and her crew. They couldn’t afford distractions. Fraternization between the Tempest’s two senior leaders would just lead to rumors and gossip and a whole host of other nonsense that neither of them had time to deal with. Plus, Cora had pointed out that things had the potential to become very, very awkward if it didn’t work out between them. Ryder agreed. 

And it was  _ still  _ a bad idea, even when Ryder had shown up outside the biolab the next day to ask a random (and when Cora thought about it later, completely unnecessary) question about duty shifts, right when Cora had just finished her workout and was in nothing but shorts and a sports bra. They only managed two words between them before Ryder had pressed Cora up against her workbench and was fucking her senseless. 

And it was  _ definitely _ a bad idea that night, when Cora had gone to Ryder’s quarters to show her a progress report, only to realize that she had completely lost track of the time. Ryder had answered the door half-asleep, hair wild, wearing an unfairly tight tank top. All it took was one sleepy, lopsided smile and Cora had shoved her right back into bed--a bed that Cora was finding hard to leave. 

Ryder adopted an exaggerated frown. “You’re right. This is very complicated. Is there anything in Sarissa’s manuals that might help?”

Cora smacked her with the nearest pillow. “Sadly, there’s no section on fucking a smartass Pathfinder. If you want an asari perspective, go ask PeeBee. She’s been throwing herself at you for weeks. Literally.” She gave Ryder one last whack for good measure, then rolled away, a small knot suddenly forming in her chest. 

Ryder crawled over to her, laughing. “It was a  _ joke _ .” Her smile fell and she quickly turned serious. “Look, I know what we had decided, but…” 

Cora’s eyes were back on the ceiling. “But what?” 

“I want you. I want this.” 

The knot tightened and made its way up to Cora’s throat. “How can you say that?” she whispered. 

“How can I not?” Ryder said. Her hand was back on Cora’s stomach, reaching across her hip, trying to pull her closer. “You’re incredible, Cora. I couldn’t do any of this without you. There’s no one I trust more, no one I respect more. I just--I want everything with you.”

Cora came to Andromeda because she had been sold on a promise--the idea that she could be part of something extraordinary. That her skills would be welcomed and she could be more than a useful freak. Where she could have a place. But nothing had gone according to plan and since the very first day, she felt like she had been playing catch-up, like Andromeda had been one step ahead of her the entire time. And now this galaxy had thrown something else at her: an undeniable connection with the last person she would have expected. Maybe it was just that simple. 

Or maybe it would just lead to more loss and disappointment. 

“Ryder…” she began, unsure of what she was even trying to say.

“Okay, two things.” Ryder rolled on top of Cora, propping her weight up on one elbow. Her hand cupped Cora’s jaw and turned her head so they were looking at each other. There was just enough light in Ryder’s quarters for Cora to see the ice blue color of Ryder’s eyes. “Number one: when we’re naked, you can definitely use my first name.”

“Fine,  _ Ember. _ The second?”

Ryder lightly traced her thumb over Cora’s bottom lip. Cora suppressed a shudder. “Do you know what I would say to my dad if I had the chance to speak to him again? I would tell him that despite everything, I’m glad he did this. Because it brought me to you.”

Tears stung the corners of Cora’s eyes but she bit them back. She looped her arms over Ryder’s broad shoulders. “I thought you hated it here.” 

“Oh, I do. Everything about Andromeda is batshit crazy.” Ryder grinned. “But you help me make sense of it all. And I hope that, maybe, you might keep doing that.”

Cora’s arms tightened around Ryder, drawing her in. She nodded. 

“Okay.” 

***

Cora leaned forward in the Nomad’s driver’s seat, trying to stretch out her rapidly stiffening back. She kept her eyes trained on the abandoned mine entrance as she did a few torso twists, hoping Vetra would appear soon. Her younger sister’s shenanigans had led them to H-047c, and after clearing out the facility and rescuing the trapped colonists, Cora and Ryder had returned to the Nomad while Vetra spoke to Sid. That had been thirty minutes ago. While she was sure there was a lot to work out between the two of them, Cora was beginning to get impatient. 

She looked over at Ryder. The Pathfinder had shoved the passenger seat as far back as it would go and put her feet up on the console. Her shaded helmet and gloves were off, tossed onto the Nomad’s deck, and she was idly chewing on a thumbnail. She muttered something intelligible and pushed up her sunglasses to pinch the bridge of her nose. Ryder had remained fairly quiet during the entire mission, enough to worry Cora, but she had decided not to press. Vetra sensed it, too, and Cora thought she might have felt guilty about involving Ryder in her sister’s mess so soon after Zeke’s death. But if Vetra’s family issues bothered Ryder, there was no other evidence of it. In fact, Ryder had only mentioned Zeke a handful of times since the night she and Cora had shared a toast in his name. She never spoke about Alec at all. 

The silence dragged on, until Ryder turned to her, tugged down her sunglasses, and waggled her eyebrows. “Want to climb in back and mess around?”

Cora scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Such a romantic.” 

“It’s not my fault that you make Initiative armor look so damn good.”

“Ember...” Cora spoke in a low, warning tone, then turned her attention back to the mine entrance. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Ryder smiling at her. Cora resisted the urge to drag the Pathfinder into the Nomad’s backseat and wipe that grin off her face. 

Before the thought took hold too deeply, Vetra finally emerged from the mine and stalked back to the Nomad. She entered the vehicle and sat down with a huff, mandibles twitching. Cora threw the Nomad into gear and drove out of the dome’s airlock. 

“Spirits, that damn kid…” Vetra grumbled. “Thanks for helping out with this, Ryder. You too, Cora.” 

“No problem,” Ryder said. 

Vetra leaned forward. “Great, so now that’s over--when did you two start sleeping together?”

Silence filled the Nomad, then Ryder burst out laughing. Cora almost drove into a crater. “Wh-what? What are you talking about?” she sputtered indignantly. 

“Look, it’s really none of my business, but there’s a pool going and Gil is starting to get really annoying about it,” Vetra said.

Cora narrowly missed another crater. 

“Do you want me to drive?” Ryder asked.

“No!” She twisted around to shoot a glare at Vetra, jamming the accelerator a bit too much as they careened over a dune. “What  _ pool?” _

Vetra’s mandibles began clicking rapidly. “Everyone’s in, the pot’s getting bigger each week. Well, almost everyone. We tried explaining it to Jaal but he didn’t quite get it.” 

“Oh my god.” Ryder tried to swallow a snort, but failed. Cora punched her in the thigh. It only made Ryder laugh harder. She clamped a hand over her mouth, her shoulders trembling. 

“Anyway,” Vetra continued, “I was hoping you might help me out here. I don’t need to know any details, but maybe a hint or two? I’ll split the pot with you both.” 

Cora jabbed Ryder in the thigh again. “Are you going to handle this, Pathfinder?”

“Alright, alright.” Ryder turned to look at Vetra, mustering some semblance of authority. She cleared her throat. “Now, Nyx, listen to me very carefully: how much is the pool?”

_ “Ember!” _


End file.
